


I don't like cats

by Rapida



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 02:33:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7296010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rapida/pseuds/Rapida
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Clarke,” Lexa was tired. She was exhausted. She was drained. Work had been awful, long and exasperating and Lexa desperately wanted to take a shower, eat dinner, and then collapse in her bed. Maybe even ask her girlfriend to run her hands through her brown hair because her head hurt and her back ached and Lexa was tired. She did not expect to come to her apartment, to her home, and see an abominable little ball of fluff in her sofa, cuddling with her girlfriend, and eating her leftovers. No, Lexa wasn’t going to stand for any of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a really long time ago, but never posted it because I wanted to write more. I just found it and -I don't know- I'm proud of it.

“No.”

“But, Lexa, _come on.”_

“I said no.”

“Lex, babe- Lexa, look at her! Just look at her, Lex. _Please?”_

“Clarke. _No.”_ Lexa crossed her arms over her chest. She refused to back down.

Clarke pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “Lexa, _please, please, please-“_

“Clarke,” Lexa was tired. She was exhausted. She was drained. Work had been awful, long and exasperating and Lexa desperately wanted to take a shower, eat dinner, and then collapse in her bed. Maybe even ask her girlfriend to run her hands through her brown hair because her head hurt and her back ached and Lexa _was tired._ She did not expect to come to her apartment, to her _home,_ and see and abominable little ball of fluff in _her_ sofa, cuddling with _her_ girlfriend, and eating _her_ leftovers. No, Lexa wasn’t going to stand for any of it. “I said _no.”_

 

Clarke puffed, golden locks falling across her face, “Lexa, she’s a _kitten. A kitten,_ Lex, you can’t seriously be asking me to dump her back in the dumpster I found her at.” The blonde lazily petted the tiny cat in her lap. The minuscule ball of white fur and crystal blue eyes laid perfectly still, as if awaiting the final verdict.

 

The brunette thought about it for a second. She wasn’t cruel, no, but she certainly didn’t want that-that _thing_ with her… “We’ll take her to the pound tomorrow morning,” she decided.

 

“But Lexa…”

“ _Clarke.”_

“She’s so tiny! Lexa, come over here and pick her up. Come on, please. Let’s think about this for more than five seconds.”

“I do not want a cat.”

“But the pound? I don’t want to just leave her there.”

“She is just a kitten; she will get adopted soon.”

“ _Lexa_ ,” Clarke whined and hugged the cat closer to her body.

Lexa was tired. She was exhausted. She was drained. So she just sighed, sloppily kissed her girlfriend, murmuring a low ‘please come to bed soon’, and went to take a shower.

 

The brunette graciously welcomed the hot water as it enveloped her body in a cloud of steam and eased her stiff muscles. Work had been hard. _Really hard_. She was the only girl there, completely stranded in a sea of testosterone, and, on top of that, she was also the youngest one. Her older male coworkers looked down at her with a sense of superiority and disbelief.

 

“What is _she_ doing here _?”_ She overheard one of the Chiefs of Finance ask a group of other _really important_ people and Lexa nearly broke her coffee cup because of how tight she was holding it.

 

Lexa hated Credit Committees.  

 

Lexa was there because she had studied her ass off in college.

Lexa was there because she had toiled her ass off as an intern.

Lexa was there because she worked her ass off each and every day.

 

Taking a deep breath, she sweetly gave the group of incompetent men a minuscule smile and made her way over to an empty table.

 

“Ignore them,” Lincoln had told her as he slipped into the chair next to hers. “They’re just a bunch of idiots. We all know you deserve to be here more than any of them.”

Lexa gave him a genuine smile, which was rare coming from her (only if the receiver wasn’t Clarke), “Thank you, Lincoln,” she muttered before bombarding him with questions about their presentation.

 

Lexa hated Credit Committees, but after she and Lincoln nailed their presentation and she walked past the table filled with those sorry excuses for chiefs of Finance and Marketing and Advertising -all smug and mighty and powerful because yes she was a woman and yes she was young but _damn_ she was amazing at her job- she thought that they weren’t _so_ bad.

 

Just extremely stressful and tiring and Lexa slipped from her daydream and finished showering because _whoa_ sleep sounded amazing. The brunette turned the tap off and threw on her favorite pajamas: one of Clarke’s old grey Ark University shirts, some short shorts with cartoony raccoon designs (Clarke had seen them a few years ago and thought they were perfect for her. When Lexa had asked her why, the blonde chuckled and said she sometimes looked like a raccoon when she wore too much eyeliner.) and a pair of really long and comfy black socks. Lexa hated sleeping without socks.

 

After drying her hair (or drying her hair as much as she could) with a towel, the brunette collapsed in her bed and snuggled under the covers.

 

Ten minutes of trying to fall asleep and Lexa realized that something was wrong. She quickly patted the space to her right and groaned.

 

“Clarke!” She yelled and almost cursed the day that she lost the ability to sleep by herself.

 

After ten more minutes, Lexa was in the brink of tears. And that was so unlike her and _what the hell is wrong with you Lexa, get it together,_ but she was tired and she was exhausted and she was drained and she just wanted to cuddle with Clarke _and where the fuck is that woman, damn it._  

 

Fighting the fatigue, Lexa ripped the blanket off her body and slowly walked towards the living room, where Clarke was calmly watching Netflix and playing with that stupid cat as if nothing was wrong. As if Lexa hadn’t called her from the other room. “Hey, did you know Love Actually is on Netflix now?”

 

“ _Clarke,”_ Lexa was on the verge of begging. She was about to drop to her knees and just _beg._ “Please,” she sucked in a deep breath and motioned with her arms to their bedroom, “come to bed.”

 

“Not until we discus her.” She pointed at the ball of fluff that was toying with Clarke’s hand, clawing and biting and scratching _and damn it_.

 

“ _Fine,”_ Lexa collapsed on the floor, staring intently at the ceiling because Clarke was definitely going to have to pay for doing this to her. “I do not want a cat.”

 

“I want a cat,” Clarke challenged, “and how can you not want a cat? You kind of act like one.”

“No, I do not.” Lexa stretched her back, yawned and glanced at a smirking Clarke.

“You totally just stretched like a cat.”

“Shut up.”

“Nice panties by the way, I love the bright pink. They really complement your skin.”

Lexa couldn’t help it. She quickly scampered her hand over her mouth, but she couldn’t hold back the chuckle that escaped her lips. _Damn you, Clarke._

 

“Holy shit,” Clarke picked up the kitty and held it close to her face, nuzzling it with her nose, “did you hear that, little fella? Lexa is capable of laughing, who would’ve thought?” The blonde barely had time to evade the pillow that was thrown her way. “ _Jesus_ , so aggressive. Sweetheart, violence is not always the answer.”

 

“Clarke, the cat, we were talking about that cat.”

“Right, right, sorry, it’s just damn. Lex, have I told you that you have a fantastic _dernier?”_

“ _Derrière_ , Clarke, it’s _derrière.”_ Lexa couldn’t hide this smirk either.

“Are you sure? Whatever, the point is that you have a fantastic ass, and this sweet little kitty thinks so too.”

“ _Clarke,_ I am _tired.”_  

“Okay, okay, hear me out. Let’s keep the cat for two weeks, just two weeks, and, if by the end of those fourteen days you still don’t want her, then we’ll take her to the pound, deal?”

 

Lexa was tired. She was exhausted. She was drained. She couldn’t recall exactly why she had agreed, but Clarke had dragged her to bed, humming some song that she had stuck in her head and caressing her scalp, untangling and braiding her hair, and Lexa was satisfied and content and happy.

 

Lexa woke up to – what was that? Meowing? – at six in the morning. The brunette was all for early mornings, but _six?_ She untangled herself from Clarke’s embrace and made her way to the living room.

 

A ball of snow white fur and sky blue eyes met her cold and unchallengeable stare.

 

Fuck.

 

_What the hell have I gotten myself into?_


	2. Maybe it's not the cat that I don't like.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been five days, since Lexa agreed to keep the - she preferred to say THING, but Clarke insisting on calling it a CAT- for two weeks. Lexa thinks that things aren't looking too good for the cat, and Clarke is hellbent on figuring out why exactly her girlfriend can't stand the cute little feline.
> 
> And no, "just 'cause" is not reason enough for Clarke.

“As I was saying, the company has had a steady cash flow in the past six years, so you should most definitely keep that in mind, regardless if business hasn’t been booming recently. “

“Lexa,”

“Furthermore, if we overlook the slight- uh- _hiccup_ and recent loss of money, our startup did show a very promising-“

“ _Lexa,”_ Lincoln harshly whispered, while nudging the brunette with his elbow.

“-capital growth that this bank would surely benefit from if you decide to fund us.”

“I’m sorry, what?” She had been so focused on the presentation that she hadn’t even noticed him calling her name.

“Your cell,” he glanced at it quickly, then back at her, “it hasn’t stopped vibrating in like thirty minutes.”

Embarrassment coated her cheeks with red, while making her eyes dart across the table to see if it really had bothered someone. No one seemed to mind except Titus, but he was against every technological advancement that came after the nineteenth century so…

A sharp vibration from her phone sent her thoughts astray. She quickly (and subtly) snatched her cell and swiped her iPhone screen to the right, unlocking her phone. Her password was her and Clarke’s anniversary because yes, she was _that_ type of person.

She had received two miscalls from her girlfriend and a whooping _eleven_ text messages in less than an hour. Worried, Lexa clicked the Messenger App and scanned over the texts.

your Griffin ;):

**(4:34 PM) Lexa, pls call me**

**(4:40 PM) Lex!!!**

**(4:44 PM) I need ur help**

**(4:46 PM) LEXA**

**(4:50 PM) ANSWER**

**(4:54 PM) CALL NOW**

**(5:04 PM) I know ur at work but pls call me**

**(5:07 PM) I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO**

**(5:10 PM) HELP**

**(5:12 PM) EMERGENCY**

The color drained from Lexa’s face. Clarke had never been so eager to reach her before. Lexa had even told her that she had a very important meeting, so she would be home late. _Oh my god. Is she hurt? Sick? In the hospital? What if it wasn’t her? Is Abby in the hospital? Anya? Linco- never mind, he’s sitting right next to me._ She typed her response in a second.

 

Commander Lex:

**(5:35 PM) Clarke, what’s wrong?**

“Is everything okay?” Lincoln sounded worried.

“I- I’m not sure,” the presentation was long forgotten, everything was long forgotten because Clarke needed her and Lexa didn’t even know what was happening or what to do or if she was hurt or- “It’s Clarke, she says it’s an emergency and she’s never bothered me at work before so-“

“Hey, hey, it’s all right. I’m sure everything’s fine.” His eyes darted to the clock hanging above the exit door and then back to her. “We still have another half hour here, so go. I’ll cover for you if anyone asks.”

“But-“

“No, Clarke needs you. _Go_. Everyone will understand and I’ll give you my notes on whatever those guys have been talking about for the past hour on Monday.”

In moments like this, Lexa was incredibly grateful for having Lincoln in her life.

“Thank you so much.”

He nodded and motioned her out with his hands.

Quietly and as casually as she could make it look, the brunette darted out of the room and into the hall. Her heart was beating a hundred miles an hour, almost about to explode from her chest, and her palms were sweating. _Exit, exit, exit, exit- where are you?_ She was trying really hard not break out into a run, but she had to keep her cool. _Stay calm. Breath in and out._ Freaking out wasn’t going to solve anything. She had to keep a level head and work through the problem.

Lexa dialed Clarke’s number and held her breath.

First ring.

Lexa found the door to the stairway and nearly fell while scampering down to the parking lot.

Second ring.

_My keys, keys, come on, I threw them in my purse when I got here – Aha!_

Third ring.

Lexa got in the car, removed the emergency break, and set the gear in reverse.

Fourth ring.

She backed out of her parking space and switched to drive when-

“Hey, Lex.”

“What happened? Are you hurt?“

“What?”

The brunette exited the building and started driving towards the highway. “Clarke, where are you?”

“I’m at our place right now.”

“Perfect, okay, I’m on the way. Don’t worry-“

“Lex, what are you even-“

“We have insurance, so, whatever it is, don’t worry. Everything is going to be fine.”

“Lex,”

“The good thing is that we’re alive; you sound fine. You’re not hurt, right?”

“Babe, what the _hell_ are you talking about?”

 _Silence._  

.

.

.

“What?” Lexa was confused.

“What?” Clarke sounded confused as well.

.

.

.

“All the messages… I was worried because you hadn’t ever bother me at work like that.”

“Oh, oh, yeah, you see, the thing is, I’m was at Pet Smart-“

“Pet Smart?”

“ _Mhm_ , and I was having a really hard time picking out the cat food we should get.”

“Food… for the cat?”

“ _Yes_ , Lex, listen to me. You wouldn’t believe it, they have _so_ many different types: Purina, Special Kitty, Meow Mix, Whiskas…”

“Wait a second,” Lexa had to stop the car in the nearest place she could because she couldn’t even begin to _understand_ , “you sent me _all_ of those text, ‘please call me’ and ‘it’s an emergency,’- all of that- because you didn’t know what _cat food_ was better?” _Five days._ They had had the pesky little- little _thing_ for five days and it was already causing Lexa so much trouble and stress and anxiety.

“I literally just said that.”

“You nearly gave me a heart attack _and_ made me leave that _really important_ meeting I told you about because you couldn’t figure out what _cat food_ you should buy.” It wasn’t a question.

A pause. “Well, when you put it like _that.”_

 _This woman is going to be the death of me. I need to start thinking about what’s best for me if I plan to live heart and blood pressure problem free._    

Lexa slammed her head against the wheel, making the horn release a raucous and resonant honk _._

“What was that? Lex?”

The brunette raised her head. She noticed that the sound had scared off a few birds and- _oh, would you look at that-_ a god damned stray black _cat_ as well.    

“Nothing, it was nothing.” Lexa set the car in drive again and got out of her impromptu parking, “I’ll see you at home soon.” She hung up and sighed.  

 

Lexa was going to have to sit Clarke down and give her a newsflash on the actual definition of ‘emergency.’ She was also going to have to get rid of the cat.

 

In moments like this she began to question all her important life choices. Agreeing to keep the cat was one of them. Even it was for just two weeks, nine more days, things were not looking good for the white ball of fur. She’d had enough bad memories with cats in the past to know they were not worth the trouble.   

 

The brunette breathed in deeply and checked the time: 6:05 PM. She wasn’t going to go back to her office. No, the meeting was about to end and showing her face so soon after she left in such a hurry would definitely raise questions. And answering with “don’t worry, my girlfriend just didn’t know what cat food to buy” wasn’t all that appealing.

 

 _Home it is then. Wait, what day is it today?_ Her eyes darted to the screen to her right, in the center of her car. **JULY 19, 2016** blinked in bright crimson red and she sighed again, looking at the road.

 

 _At least it’s Friday._ She raised the volume of the radio and drowned her thoughts in a sea of instruments and lyrics.

 

.:.

 

Clarke knew Lexa was mad. She knew the other woman so well that she could even _sense_ it. It was like an eerie quiet before a storm.

 

“Snowball,” she looked at the kitty in her lap, “we have a problem.”

 

Day 1, had been fine. Lexa left work, came back at five (the usual), showered, ate dinner (Chinese takeout because no one felt like cooking), watched an episode of Criminal Minds with Clarke, and then went to bed. She barely even paid attention to the kitten. Whether that was good or bad, Clarke had yet to figure out. She just wanted to keep the cat, and if that meant the cat would have little to no interaction with Lexa, then so be it. She would make Snowball, the name she dubbed her white feline with, invisible if she had to. _If only those fucking invisibility cloaks from Harry Potter were real._

Day 2 had been like the one before it, but with a moody Lexa. Clarke thought it had something to do with work so she brushed it off.

Day 3 had been a little better. Clarke had even spotted Lexa fast asleep with Snowball in the couch when she came home late from the studio. Someone had asked if they could rent it to host the presentation for the new mall they were planning on making and Clarke, completely flattered that they had chosen her studio filled with her art, agreed in a heartbeat. When Lexa woke up, she nearly jumped five feet in the air at the sight of the kitten nuzzled next to her. She then on denied having fallen asleep next to the “thing,” as she called it.

Yesterday, Day 4 hadn’t been the best. Lexa came home from work, nearly stepped on Snowball, and briskly walked to their room while yelling an array of curses in French. (“It gives me an excuse to practice my second language, Clarke.” The blonde laughed, “yeah, _that’s_ why.”).    

Everything had been (almost) fine until Clarke screwed everything up. _I shouldn’t have called her at all… now that I think of it, why did I even call and text her in the first place? Fuck me._

She guessed that, since she was so excited about having a cat, she wanted her best friend, Lexa, to be excited with her. But, for whatever reason, Lexa wasn’t as thrilled about the new addition to the family as Clarke was. Rummaging through her mind, the blonde tried to remember something - _anything -_ that her girlfriend had said regarding pets or cats, more specifically. In the three years that she’d known Lexa (they had been friends for one year, and dating for two), she didn’t think that they had ever reached that topic of conversation, surprisingly.

 

 _Hmm,_ Clarke thought, _we’ve never talked about childhood pets or that kind of stuff before._ It wasn’t as if there was a whole lot to tell anyways. At least, on Clarke’s part. She had had a hamster and a few bettas when she was younger, and her dad brought home a golden retriever puppy when she was ten, but he, Apollo they had called him (because he was golden and Apollo was the god of the sun in Greek mythology - get it? It’s clever isn’t it? Clarke thought it was at least. She probably doesn’t need to mention that she read Percy Jackson before naming him.) had died a few years ago.

 

The blonde made a mental note to ask her girlfriend about her past, if there was one, with pets when she heard the faint _click clack click clack_ of the heels of Lexa’s boots outside followed by the shuffling of keys crashing against each other.

 

“Hey, babe,” Clarke greeted as she stood up, leaving Snowball in the sofa. The kitten just curled up in a ball barely the size of Clarke’s palm and went to sleep.

 

Lexa murmured a low, “Hi,” while opening the door. She closed it, left her keys in the little key hanger Clarke had bought and painted (it was a forest and the star-filled sky above it) left her shoes by the door and walked to the kitchen.

 

The blonde narrowed her eyes, _something’s off,_ she thought, _and it isn’t just about what happened with the cat food._   

 

“Are you okay?” Clarke asked as she entered the kitchen. She propped her elbows on top of the counter and laid her chin on her hands. She was carefully observing every single movement the brunette made.

 

Clarke knew Lexa was troubled. She knew the other woman so well that she could even _sense_ it. Of course, being an expert in all things Lexa, she also knew that, when it came to the woman in front of her, actions spoke louder than words. Everything that she felt, she expressed in the way she moved or acted or looked. Every single glance at the floor, itch in the back of her neck, invisible dust bunny in her clothes or glimmer in her eyes meant something, and Clarke was luckily one of the few people who could understand and read the distinct language.

 

Lexa stopped looking inside of the fridge and visibly tensed. _No, I am not okay._ “Yeah,” her voice cracked a little, so she cleared her throat and tried again, “I’m fine.” _Liar,_ Clarke thought. Even though she could only see her girlfriend’s back, she knew the brunette was holding back tears. Lexa hated crying as much as she loved socks. _You’re just saying that because you don’t want to cry._

 

“Lex,” Clarke gently said. She moved around the counter and slowly closed the fridge’s door. Lexa turned around to face her. She wasn’t tense anymore, just defeated. Broken, and it broke Clarke’s heart. “If it was about the food, then I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention-”

 

“No, no-” Tears were streaming down her face freely now, “It’s - I was mad, but no, that’s not it.” She took a deep breath. “It’s my dad’s birthday today,” was the last thing she said before collapsing into Clarke’s arms as sobs wrecked her body.

 

 _Of course! How could I have been so stupid,_ Clarke thought, _that’s what’s been bothering her lately._ She guided Lexa to the living room, where they both sat down in the couch. Clarke enveloped Lexa in her arms and just let her cry. Lexa was going to talk in her own time and pushing her wasn’t going to do any good.

 

Clarke knew a little bit about Lexa’s father. Her girlfriend’s parents had gotten divorced when she was really young. The separation had been long and arduous and awful (which resulted in Lexa’s shyness around people she barely knew) and had finally ended when the judge decided that Lexa was going to live with her mom and visit her dad on the weekends. It had worked out well for the first few years, until Lexa’s mom started filling her six-year-old daughter’s head with horrid lies about supposed things her ex-husband had done (whether it was out of hatred, bitterness or fear of losing Lexa, no one will know). That shifted Lexa’s perspective of her dad from hero to villain, and everything continued on a downward spiral from then on. Clarke wasn’t sure exactly what had happened, but father and daughter had broken ties and hadn’t spoken to each other in years. Which made Lexa feel incredibly guilty because, even if she hadn’t always seen eye to eye with him, the man was still her father and she loved him very much.

 

“We-we,” Lexa hiccuped, “we used to have a cat, Cl-Clarke.”

Everything started falling into place. Why Lexa had been moody, why she didn’t want the cat…

 

“His name was-was Max and my,” a new wave of tears, “my dad brought him home and- tha-that’s why...”

 

Lexa didn’t need to finish the sentence for Clarke to understand.

_and that’s why I didn’t want the cat and that’s why I’ve been insufferable and that’s what I haven’t told you and-_

 

Clarke ran her hands through Lexa’s wild hair, “it’s okay, just let it out. It’s fine.”

- _and that’s what’s bothering me._  

 

“Lex, look at me,” Clarke pulled away from the embrace, but held her girlfriend within arm’s length, “you know that I believe that everything happens for a reason, right?” Lexa nodded while wiping her moist cheeks. She was starting to calm down. “Well, maybe it’s time that you made amends with your dad. I know it’s  been bothering you for a really long time, and that you feel guilty and still love him, so… what do you say?”

 

Lexa started fidgeting with her tissue paper. _That means that she’s thinking or nervous or maybe even both._  

 

It took a long while for Lexa to reply. So long, that Clarke even thought she fell asleep. They had resumed their earlier position with Clarke’s arms around Lexa and Lexa’s head in Clarke’s shoulder. The blonde was rubbing soothing intricate designs in the brunette’s back, while eyeing Snowball as she played with a ball made out of Clarke’s socks. Lexa reached out, away from Clarke’s grasp, and picked the kitten up from the ground. The blonde couldn’t even believe it, she swore her eyes were about to pop from their sockets. The brunette then proceeded to place Snowball in her lap, and the kitty sat and looked up expectantly, while purring as loudly as a race car.

 

Lexa scratched the kitten behind her ears and murmured an, “I think you’re right,” while a small, almost minuscule smile adorned her face.

 

 _You_ think _I’m right?_ Clarked nearly scoffed out loud, _sweetheart, I’m always right._ The blonde wasn’t just about to ruin the moment though, so she just continued running circles in Lexa’s back and turned on the TV. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't eager to met the other half of the reason Lexa was conceived.  

  
She selected another episode of Criminal Minds on Netflix. _Hmm, I could definitely be a profiler,_ and together, they started watching the show.

 

 _We'll see._               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the second chapter. This wont be a long story, and I know, I know, this took a turn from happy and light to dark and depressing, but I just thought that if I was going to continue writing, then I might as well have a purpose and reason to give the characters a happy ending. Another reason that I wanted to give Lexa these problems is so that she fixes them. I've read A LOT of stories where her parents are depicted as homophobic assholes who wont accept her for being gay and I'm really tired it. In the midst of so much negativity (raging from parents rejecting their children for being gay and all the terrorist attacks that have occurred) I want to write something between two people that, of course, have had their problems, but learn to rectify them AND move on. Happier. So tell me what you think, please, and thanks for reading.


End file.
